


I Used To Be Like You

by CharliePDonovan



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, Rapture (BioShock)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 01:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15256707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharliePDonovan/pseuds/CharliePDonovan
Summary: You remember dying, but you're still breathing. It was traumatic to say the least. You're still alive and you have to cope with the new you. One thing still bugs you, though.Why did Atlas of all people rescue you?





	I Used To Be Like You

**Author's Note:**

> I got tired of seeing authors demonizing Atlas, not gonna lie. And the only ones I could find where he wasn't a total asshole were fanfics where he was separate from Fontaine. So I guess this is kind of self indulgent?? But it's also an idea that I've been meaning to write for a while. I know its a little short, but it's the best I could do honestly. Hope you enjoy!

You thought you had died. You remember dying. Yet here you are, alive and breathing, lying on a cold operating table. 

Your arms are tied down with some sort of torn leather, as are your legs. You try to struggle against your restraints, but nothing happens. With a long sigh, you put your head down on the table and wait. 

It feels like days have passed when the door to the room finally opens. You had managed to doze off again, but the slam of the automatic door jolted you awake.

"Hello?" you call. Your voice is a bit raspy, as if you haven't used it in a while. There's no answer except the sound of approaching footsteps. The room is too dark to see anything so you have to rely on your other senses. 

You can sense someone staring at you and hear the tapping of a pen on the metal table. There's a slight smell of cigarettes and alcohol. A surprised breath escapes the figure above you. 

"You're actually awake." Whatever tiredness you have left leaves your body and is replaced by shock and fear. You recognize this voice. It's one you've heard over the radio many times, the voice that reassured you when you thought living in Rapture was too much to handle. Could it really be him?

You inhale sharply before moving your hands. "Get me out of these," you demand as the lights are flicked on. You have to squint your eyes to get used to the sudden brightness. While you still adjust, the restraints on your wrists and ankles are removed.

"How much do you remember?" You sit up and glance over at the man who had spoken. You had been correct in assuming it's the one who speaks to you over the radio. He wears tattered jeans with a white button up loosely tucked into them, along with suspenders and scuffed dress shoes. His dark hair is messy and there are bags under his eyes, as if he hasn't slept in days.

You've only met him once, when you had first joined the ranks of the "resistance." It was a sort of speech, you think, but the details are a blur. All you know is that your boss is in front of you now and he asked you a question. Oh shit, he asked you a question-

"I...don't know." Your memory is fuzzy. You know you had gotten shot three-no, four times. Once in the stomach, twice in the shoulder, and once in the chest. "I remember dying. I didn't die instantly, but everything after I got shot is really blurry." You scrunch up your nose and rub your temple. "They weren't Splicers...No, they were dressed too nicely." 

"Ryan's men," he says. You can finally pick out a name from your jumbled brain. Atlas. His name is Atlas. "Three of 'em. They ambushed you." You nod slowly. That sounds right, but you still can't remember.

"How did you, er... revive me?" Atlas stares at his feet with his arms crossed for a moment. Then he sighs. 

"I'm not gonna lie t' you, (Y/N)." He picks up an empty container off the shelf to your right. It has the familiar shape of a Plasmid container, complete with a bright blue ribbon tied around it. Your heart speeds up. "The only way to make sure you stayed alive was to pump you full of Plasmids and Tonics."

Your vision begins to swim. You had sworn off Plasmids long ago in fear of becoming just another Splicer. And now they were in your blood, in your DNA?

"I know it's not somethin' you like, boyo," Atlas says calmly, noticing that your hands are beginning to shake. "But it was the only way to bring you back." You hold a hand up to silence him.

"How do I get them out?" you ask with a shaky, yet aggressive, voice. Atlas shakes his head.

"You can't." You feel tears prick at your eyes. But you force them back quickly. You have to accept that this is who you are now. You're still you, the same (Y/N), just a bit...enhanced. Sure, it's going to take some time to get used to, but you know you can handle it. At least, you hope you can...

Atlas sighs again, then sits next to you on the table. "Listen, (Y/N), I know you're scared." He puts a hand on your shoulder. Your muscles tense. 

"I'm not scared," you snap. "I'm just...confused." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Why did you rescue me? You specifically. Why not one of your lackeys?"  
Atlas is silent for a moment. You can almost see the gears turning in his head. 

"I don't know," he finally answers, his eyebrows furrowing. "I had to, I guess. I can't lose another man, not now."

You feel your heart sink. That wasn't the answer you had hoped you would receive. You don't know what you want, but it isn't that.

After a few more moments of silence, you grow tired of doing nothing and jump off the operating table. You make a beeline to a shotgun that was propped up against the wall. You can hear Atlas scramble to his feet behind you.

"Wait, (Y/N), where are you going?" He almost sounds worried. You roll your eyes. Atlas isn't the type of man to worry about people that are replaceable. That's one thing you remember.

"I'm leaving," you say. "I can't spend the rest of my life here."

"But you're not stable yet! The Plasmids-"

"The Plasmids can fuck off!" you shout back with a shaky voice. "You knew damn well I didn't want these things. I trusted you with that information, Atlas, and you just tossed it aside like it didn't even matter!" You can hear your blood pumping in your ears. The shotgun clatters to the ground. Atlas just stares at you with a blank expression other than the erratic movement of his eyes.

"I don't have to use the damn things," you continue, balling your fists. "I can do just fine without them. I'm capable of defending myself!" Tears have begun to fall down your cheeks and your body is shaking. You hate this. You hate Atlas. All he wants is to keep his ranks even. "I should have stayed dead!"

"(Y/N)-!" 

Before he can say anything else, you fall to your knees and cover your face with your hands, sobbing loudly. Electricity crackles at your fingertips. You stare at them, trying to make sense of it all. Atlas shakes his head.

"Fuck. I don't know what to fucking do, (Y/N)." He kneels next to you and puts one of his hands over yours. The Irish accent in his voice wavers for a second. "I know you don't like this... I used to feel the same way you do, you know?"

You glance up at him through your tears. "You did?" He chuckles.

"Sure, it had nothing to do with Plasmids, but yeah, I did." Atlas's face softened. "I hated who I was. I promised myself I wouldn't do anything that would get me into trouble. I was just a boy when I made that promise. Now here I am, thirty years later, and I'm in the same mess I told myself I wouldn't get into.

"You wanna know why I saved you? Because I care about you, boyo. I wasn't going to let you just lay there and die. You have a chance to get out of here, a chance at a normal life outside of thia sunken hellhole. I'm not letting that chance get away, (Y/N), I can't."

You don't know what to say. Atlas, the man you had just silently accused of being a heartless, power-hungry monster, was just a normal man, trying to survive down in the ruins of Rapture. And he...cares about you? You don't know why you do what you do next, it happens on instinct.

You lunge forward, wrap your arms around his neck, and bury your face in his shoulder. Atlas is shocked for a moment. After a few seconds of consideration, he wrapped his own arms around you. 

"I'm sorry," you say quietly. 

"Don't you start." Atlas pulls away, his icy blue eyes gazing into yours. Something flashes through your mind, a scenario you hadn't thought of in a while. The eyes of your boss remind you of the ones belonging to a certain man you had encountered during your first week of living in Rapture. Your mind wanders, wondering if they could possibly be one and the same...

"(Y/N)?"

"Huh?" You realize you were staring at him again. Your face grows warm. "Ah shit, I'm sorry!" Atlas just laughs. You find yourself relaxing at the sound.

"It's alright. I know I'm quite the handsome devil." You scoff, slowly getting to your feet.

"You fucking wish. As if I would ever be attracted to you." He brushes off his jeans and shrugs.

"Never said you would be, lad. Just saying I wouldn't complain if you were."

The two of you walk out of the medical wing, bantering and arguing playfully all the way. You even manage to laugh despite the obvious pain of electric bolts shooting through your veins. You take one more look at Atlas before letting a smile crawl to your lips. You feel awful for comparing the two before, because now you know there's no way that Atlas, the man who had saved your life, could be the scheming, money fueled Frank Fontaine.

You hope so, at least.


End file.
